Shadow
by MusicalCatharsis
Summary: Draco, everytime I close my eyes I relive what we had. But that's just it, we HAD something fifteen years ago, we don't have something now." He replied, "As long as your eyes say you love me, we will always HAVE something." And then he kissed me...again.
1. Leaving

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Harry Potter except for the stories that I produce using the ideas of J.K. Rowling. I will not profit from any publicity that this story will receive. This disclaimer applies to all future chapters.

* * *

My heart clenched in my chest.

Rose gripped my hand tightly in her own. I could feel the fear running through her finger tips.

"Don't worry baby, I'm scared too." I said to her.

There he was. My stomach dropped down to my feet. **There he was**. It had been fifteen years, fifteen agonizing years since I saw his face. Ron slipped his arm around my waist, subconsciously pulling me closer to him. I cringed. His touch, after all these years, still disgusted me. I sighed, and waved at Ginny and Harry. They had the boys with them. I smiled down at my nephews. We were one big happy fucking family. Merlin, I hated my life and the person I turned out to be. On a normal day I would be happy with my life. I would be grateful that I had a husband who loved me, a child to love, a job to die for, and the same friends since I was eleven. But today wasn't a normal day. Today my heart broke.

Again.

The Hogwarts Express was stopped in its normal spot at Platform 9 ¾ located right between Platforms 9 and 10. He was standing off to the side, with Scorpious, and _Astoria_ the lucky bitch. His eyes caught mine, and in that moment, we relived a year of our lives. A year that we fell in love, were torn apart, and had to continue on with our predetermined destinies. Life fucking sucks when it's against you. Life was always against us.

Always.

His eyes bore into my own and in an instant my heart was on fire. I could see the love shining through the silver, could tell that his heart was clenching with emotion just as mine was at the moment. In my peripherals I could see Harry and Ron nodding their heads in his direction, and I could see him nod his head back. He never broke eye contact with me. It would be another four months until we could look at each other again. I wanted to take in all that I could. I tried to take in all that I could, but Ronald yanked on my arm, jerked his head in Rose's direction, and I had to tend to my child. Oh, how my life had changed. If this was years before, when I was young and in love, I would've made up some excuse to meet the man across the platform. I would've wasted hours in his arms, snogging him senseless. But this was the present, and I could not neglect my child for the memory of a boy I used to love.

I knelt before her, on one knee.

Much like the way he knelt before me, fifteen years ago.

"Rose, darling, it's time to go. Study hard, stay away from Filch, don't irritate Peeves, McGonagall really is a nice lady, and after third year drop Divination. I love you, don't forget to write, and don't get into too much trouble." I kissed the top of her eleven year old head and watched from my knee, as she hugged her father, her aunt and uncle, grabbed little James' hand, and raced off for the scarlet train. I stood, running my fingers through my chestnut colored, frizzy hair.

I would give anything to be going back in her shoes.

Twenty one years seems like so long ago. I'm thirty-two now, that makes him thirty one, and that makes Astoria twenty nine. My heart clenched again as they swiftly walked by me, her arm tucked neatly into the crevice of his elbow. I sighed heavily, at least for four months; things can go back to normal. He was gone now, walked away just like he did fifteen years ago. I guess things never change.

* * *

"…I saw the way you looked at him Hermione. So this time, try not to lie to my bloody face. Do you still love him?" Ron stood near the fireplace, a glass of fire whiskey held in his fist. I sat on the couch, legs slightly spread, elbows on my knees with my head in my hands. I sighed.

"I…I don't know, Ronald." I tipped my head upward. The hurt in his eyes hit me, hard. I felt my chest tightening. Like his hand was closing around it, my breath was coming in short gasps. A tear formed in the corner of my eye, I blinked, and it rolled down my cheek. Frustrated, I stood from my position on the couch and walked to the window.

"It was so long ago, I don't even know if he's the same person now. He doesn't even know about…" a strangled sob escaped my throat; my hand shot out and gripped the green drapes. I jumped, shrieking loudly, when the glass of fire whiskey hit the window.

"Hermione, I've had to live in his fucking shadow. I can't stand being second in line for my own WIFE'S heart!"

"Well, I'm sor….Damn it Ron, it's not like I asked to fall in love with Draco!"

"For the past fifteen years, I've had to deal with knowing that I don't satisfy you. That you didn't want me; because I had the wrong color hair, or the wrong color eyes, and that my left fucking arm didn't hold the DARK MARK! Is that what you need Hermione? You need me to be an evil git who walked out on you? Because I can do that, in fact, I think I will." He was standing near the door now; he looked into my hazel eyes for a moment. "Have it your way, Mione."

I wanted to call out to him, I should've called out for him to stay, but I couldn't find the words. Instead, I ran into the hallway to watch his ginger hair retreat up the stairs. I followed him to our bedroom. The blue duffel bag he used when he moved into my parent's house with me before we got married was thrown on the bed, his backside was sticking out of the closet.

"Don't do this Ron." I said to him.

"Do what, Hermione?" he countered. He rushed out of the closet, throwing his shrunken clothes into the bag. He exhaled deeply and glared at me. "Don't love you? Because I do Hermione, I have since sixth year. Don't care about you? Because I do, I have since first year, when the troll was going to kill you. Don't protect you? Because I have, I have every time _Draco_ called you a Mudblood. Don't leave you? Because I am, Hermione, I just can't sleep in the same bed as you; share a house with you, when you obviously love another man."

"Ron…."

"I'll be at my parents." I closed my eyes, felt the whoosh of air as he passed me, and heard the pop of his departure.

"…I love you, but I love him too."

* * *

"Astoria, please. You're giving me a headache." I said, rubbing my temples with my lithe fingers. "I was merely being pleasant."

"My bloody arse you were being pleasant. Daphne told me all of what happened between you and that _Mudblood _in your seventh year." She was a frosty woman, pure blooded, long black hair, piercing blue eyes, and no heart in sight. Her nose was always stuck in the air, and wrinkled like she smelt something that didn't agree with her. She was exactly like his mother, and he wouldn't stand for her calling the woman he loved a Mudblood.

"Astoria, you are way out of line." I said, closing my eyes while reaching for the bottle of tequila. The glass rim of the bottle was cool against my lips. I tipped the bottle back, the cool liquid splashing the back of my throat. I swallowed greatly, feeling my headache subside greatly, but her shrill voice still cut through my scalp. She always knew what button of mine to press. Why did I marry this chit again?

"Oh yes, I forgot, she was pregnant, with your half blood child when you left her." My eyes snapped open, and I was out of my seat within a second. My hands had clasped around her shoulders, I shook her roughly.

"What did you say Greengrass?" I hissed, the snake in me coming out once again.

"Oh, it's Greengrass again?" she taunted me, throwing her hair behind her back. Her eyes twinkled up at me, and I glared back at her. "Granger, Gryffindor Princess, was pregnant with your child…**when you left her.**"

"I didn't leave her, Greengrass." My hand tightened around her shoulders. Her eyes flickered down to my left hand, where my wedding band stood proudly.

"You can take that off you know, I know you don't honor it." I pushed her away from me, before turning swiftly and grabbing my bottle of tequila again.

"I didn't fucking leave her, get that through your thick skull." I took a swig from the bottle.

"Oh yeah? Well then what do you call this?" Her right hand flew to her left, yanked on her ring finger, and pulled away. I saw the glint of the diamonds laying in her hand before she threw them into the fireplace, my eyes averted and I watched them burn. She sighed, turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

"I'm walking out on you, and Scorpious, the way you walked out on Granger and your child." I turned my head towards the fireplace again, sipping on my tequila, if I squinted; I could almost see the melted gold on the bottom of the grate.

Almost.

* * *

My hair fanned out on the useless throw pillows on the living room couch. My eyes were shut, and in the distance I could hear a persistent knocking on the door. Sighing heavily, I stood up and shuffled to the oaken front door. It took all my strength to pull the door open. His platinum blonde hair was hanging in his face, his eyes had glazed over, and in his hand was an empty bottle of tequila.

"Draco?" his gray eyes fluttered up to my own. They flashed with hurt, and I stumbled backward, deeper into the house. He followed me inside. I grabbed at my heart. The door swung shut as he walked towards me. "What are you doing here, Draco?" He stopped. His eyes flashing to mine again.

"Tell me it isn't true Hermione."

"Tell you what isn't true?" I asked, swiping the fallen fringe out of my face.

"Tell me you weren't pregnant when I left."

The hall was silent, as we stared into each other's eyes. I stopped breathing long enough for my eye sight to become cloudy. I dropped my eyes from his gaze, but I could still feel him staring at me.

"I…I can't do that."

* * *

A/N: This idea came to me one night while I was sitting in bed watching George Lopez. My god that man is hilarious. Anyway, I've been writing it for about two weeks now, so please let me know what you think.


	2. Photograph

The sun rose on the east side, like it had every other day of my life

Chapter Two

The sun rose on the east side, like it had every other day of my life. Everything felt normal as I slowly came out of my slumber. There was a body next to me, tangled in the silk sheets. I sighed and burrowed deeper into the body of my husband. It was as if yesterday never happened, like it was some nightmare that I can wake from whenever I chose to open my eyes. Rose was, in fact, still down the hall. And my past was still very much dead. My heart clenched at the word. Dead. Why did it have to be so final?

I inhaled deeply, a sharp pain stinging my chest, right about where my heart should be.

But it wasn't there. Metaphorically speaking.

I exhaled, using the little bit of energy I got from sleeping for the few short hours that I did. I rolled onto my side, opening my eyes slightly. I smiled contentedly as I took in the platinum blonde hair, on the head of the man sleeping next to me. This was the way things should have been. I sat up, the sheets falling down to my waist, exposing my bare chest. I pulled lightly until the sheet came off the bed with me. I wrapped the emerald silk around my body, tucking the corner piece under my left arm, before stretching lightly. It was then that I noticed exactly the predicament I had walked myself into.

Cursing silently I looked from the pair of blue eyes in the doorway to the gray eyes staring back at me from the bed. I shook my head lightly and opened my mouth, ready with some excuse. Ron held up his hand, his face turning redder with each passing second.

"I can't believe this." He yelled. "I'm gone one night, Hermione! And already he's in MY BED!" He moved into the room, flicked his wand, and had Draco hanging upside down.

"Ronald!" I scolded. "Put him down." He whipped his head in my direction, his eyes glaring at me.

"…Don't know how I could have ever come to love a whore." My shoulders stiffened and I glared at him, my hands immediately going to my hips. "I'll be back for the rest of my stuff, with Harry, later. Because if I come alone…" he let his sentence die out. Turning his attention back to Draco, he hissed.

"You left her for Greengrass because your father told you to. Left your fucking child, because Daddy said 'Jump' and Draco asked 'How high.' I bet you don't even know his name, or what he looked like. Or how he cried every night at 3 a.m. You didn't hold Hermione's hand through her contractions. You didn't hold her when she cried. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR OWN SON DIED!" his breathing was labored as he dropped Draco onto the floor, bare ass and all.

"…and you don't even know how much it killed me, to look into his gray eyes each time I held him and know that he belonged to you and not to me. And better yet, you don't know how bloody hard I cried when he died. As far as I'm concerned, you're still a heartless bastard, and the cold hearted bitch over there deserves you."

He was gone with a pop.

I stared into Draco's eyes, and he looked back into mine.

"D-Died?" he sputtered.

I nodded.

"How? Better yet, why?"

I sat down on the edge of the bed, fresh tears rolling down my reddened cheeks. The silk was cool against my skin as he turned me bodily to face him.

"What happened to my son, Hermione?" I inhaled, lifting my eyes up to meet him.

"It's a long story, Draco."

"I've got nothing but time."

She closed her eyes, sighed heavily, and began her tale…

* * *

"I guess I'll start with the day you left, it was also the day I found out I was pregnant. When you asked me to meet you…that is what I was trying to tell you. But you wouldn't listen, you just went on and on with that bull shit story…

"…I don't love you Hermione. You were just a fling. You're nothing but a Mudblood. Imagine how I felt Draco. My heart shattered, which only **began **the distress our son, was put through. I didn't eat for weeks, I know it was stupid. Pomfrey checked me at the end of May, the same day Harry and Ron came back from their search. She told me that all I had to do was take care of myself and look out for the needs of the baby, and we should be alright.

"The next seven months…I have come to call them the "Eye of the Storm" because for those months, we didn't have one casualty. I took care of myself, ate properly, and went to all my doctor appointments, exercised regularly…And then December 30th came around. Voldermort-Oh for Merlin's sake! - Voldermort struck, and he struck hard. We were visiting Ginny at Hogwarts. Ron and I had already married, and I was due in February. I wanted to fight-"

"Please tell me you didn't?" I interjected.

"Let me finish the story, Malfoy." I snapped my mouth shut and nodded, signaling for her to continue with her tale. "I wanted to fight, but they told me no. So I was left in the Room of Requirement. …but that didn't stop them from finding me. I don't remember what happened in the room, but somehow I passed out, and when I woke up I was in the hospital wing.

"…there was so much blood. And the pain, it was unbearable, but by that time it was too late to give me anything for it. I was told later that the Death Eaters took turns shooting different curses at my stomach. I gave birth to my son at 3:00 a.m. on December 31st, 1998. He was premature by almost two months. He was so tiny, so frail; I didn't even get to hold him until three months later. He couldn't suck, so he was fed through tubes. His skin was like paper, I could see all of his veins, and his immune system wasn't fully developed. He developed a cold within the first twenty-four hours of his life. It was touch and go for a while, but he pulled through. He always seemed to find a way to pull through. He was given iron and vitamin supplements through intervenes. It was hard to watch my child have to breathe through a tube. But no matter what he went through in those months in that small incubator, that bloody kid always had a smile on his face, and a laugh on his lips.

"I was finally able to bring him home on March 25th and it was the happiest day of my life. We set him up in his little blue room with the racing brooms on the walls. He giggled all the time. His laughter was contagious, and it spread like wildfire. They told me he was fine, that Spencer was going to survive, but that…that wasn't the case. He developed a heart murmur. Spence had all the medication he needed and then some more left over. A pill for his heart, a crème for his skin, a liquid for his lungs, an antibiotic, an antihistamine, vitamins…you name it, he had it. Every morning he would cry at 3 a.m. I don't know if he remembered the pain he was in when he was born, but he would always cry, and only a male voice would calm him down. You were his father, but Ron…Ron was his dad.

"He lived well past his second birthday. I went back to work, as did Ron, and we were talking about having another child. And then I look up from my desk one day to see Ginny running down the hall, her face worried. She told me about how he was running around with Teddy, Remus' son who was about his age, when he just stopped and fell to the ground. I remember clutching at the clothing over my heart and it shattered, my last tie to you, my son, my pride and joy, who had fought and beat death three times already in his short two years of life…was once again in mortal danger.

"I flooed Ron, but he was on assignment and couldn't be reached. And you, you didn't "love" me, let alone know about Spencer. I sat outside the room hearing the horrible sounds filtering out of the room. I held it together until the Heraler came out of the room with a solemn look on his face. His heart just stopped working, and I blamed myself, because I forgot to give him his medicine that morning. I had to floo Ginny to give it to him, but by the time I remembered, it was three hours that. The Healer told me that it wasn't my fault, but I didn't believe him. I blamed myself, most days I still blame myself. He passed away on May 17, 2000. I don't remember much of the year that follows, nor do I want to. I was told by many people, that I was not a pleasant person to be around."

I looked into her eyes and could see the pain.

"Spencer…"

"He had your eyes, but my hair."

"Spencer…what?" I asked.

"Spencer D. Granger."

"What did the D stand for?"

"Nobody knew Draco, aside from Harry, Ron, Ginny, and I, the D stands for Draco, but on his certificates, it's just D." I nodded my head in understanding.

"Do you…are you, okay?"

"I'm fine now Draco. I'm fine now."

"Hermione, do you…do you have any pictures of him, I'd like to see him."

She nodded before walking out of the door, taking a left.

* * *

I reached out for her after staring at his picture for what seemed like an hour. I could hear the tick tock of the clock in the hall, the dripping of the water in the next room from the faucet, I could hear her breathing, I could even see her pain. He was beautiful, his skin was tanned, and he had thin hair that was just as curly and frizzy as his mothers. He was extremely thin, his cheeks looked very hollow, but he was smiling. It pained me to think that Ron had parented my child when I...just left. I was nothing but a coward. And so, I reached for her.

She jerked out of my grasp.  
"Don't touch me." She hissed. "You were right all those years, purebloods and Mudbloods don't belong together. Can't you see that Draco? Spencer was defective because of me..." I couldn't help the anger that rose up in my chest. Tears were falling down her rosy cheeks, and all I wanted to do was yell at her. Instead I spoke:

"It's not your fault, Hermione." She whipped her head in my direction.

"Don't Draco. Just…just go." I stood from the bed, slowly walking over to her, kneeling down on bended knee. Placing two fingers under her chin, I lifted her face to eye level. Wiping at her tears with the pad of my thumb before I cupped her cheek in my hand, I pressed our foreheads together.

"No Hermione…"

"Dra-"

My lips crashed gracefully onto hers. Closing my eyes lightly I sighed as she opened her mouth, and my tongue slid in. I moved my hands to the back of her neck, the left tangling into her mass of curls. I pulled off of the chair, closer to my body. I felt the tension ease out of her as I rubbed the small of her back. My heart began to flutter around in my chest before dropping down into my stomach and settling at the bottom. I felt her lips move against my own, and it was bliss. Pulling her even closer to me by the thin sheet that separated our naked bodies from each other, I moaned as she pushed her pelvic bone against my erection. Though we shagged the night before, this was different.

I tried to show her what I meant through the kiss, but it wasn't working. She still yearned for more. I pulled back slowly, leaning my forehead against hers. Our chests were heaving, and it took me several minutes to catch my breath.

Three minutes to be exact. Three long, agonizing minutes. I pulled away from her, Spencer's photograph falling to the floor, picture facing up before I decided to speak again.

"…no, not this time."

-

A/N: Here it is the second installment. Tell me if you think I should continue or not. Because I'm having some serious doubts about this story, some really serious doubts.


	3. Kiss

I stood with my back to Ronald as he stalked around the room, his bottom lip jutted out, and his wand in his hand. My right hand had drawn back the sheer curtain that covered our bay windows. His pacing was making me nervous. Finally the pacing stopped and he placed a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened. Turning around under his hand, I glanced into his eyes. The tears glistened in the corners.

"Why?" he sputtered before the dam broke and I caught my husband as he crumpled to the floor. I placed his ginger head to my chest and rocked his body while he sobbed. Large, heaving, wracking, sobs. My heart broke, but then again…it's been broken for a long time.

"I don't know, Ronald." I sighed, and planted a kiss to the top of his head. Tears, I had already cried enough of those. I couldn't stand to cry anymore, not over a situation that I tried to control but failed miserably at. It's not my fault. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

"Kiss me Hermione." I looked into his eyes. "If you love me, kiss me."

"I really just don't know." I heard a loud grunt from the other side of the room, glancing up I saw Harry rake his hands through his hair roughly and push off from the wall. He grabbed Ron under the arms and lifted him to his feet. Turning him bodily he looked into the cyan blue of his best friend's eyes and spoke evenly.

"When she knows, she'll come back. You're ten times the man that Malfoy is, and you always will be. She will miss you. Mark my words." He glanced down at me while I was kneeling on the floor. Dropping to one knee he placed his forehead against mine. "Don't hurt Ronald the way _he_ hurt you all those years ago." I pulled away from him, my forehead instantly burning. My eyes grew cold…

"_He wouldn't have had to hurt me, had you kept your word about secrecy."_ I stood gracefully and swept out of the room, my robes billowing behind me.

-

His grave stood tall in front of me. I could feel the hot tears burning down my cheeks as I placed the single carnation at the base of the headstone. Gingerly, I placed my hand on the front of the stone. "Spencer." The name slipped past my lips in barely a whisper, it lingered in the air for a second, before it was carried away with the wind. My heart clenched in my chest as I leaned forward and placed my cheek next to his name. If I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could feel his tiny hands wrapping around my index finger as we walked along Diagon Alley in the middle of the afternoon. It had been around eleven years since I stood at his grave, eleven years since I placed my cheek onto the black stone, eleven years since I allowed myself to remember my son. I guess I don't know the first damn thing about healing, because I'm still torn up inside.

I jumped at the feeling of a hand clasped around my shoulder. There was this moment, when I realized that our family was complete for just the smallest amount of time, I relaxed.

"Draco, please, just let me go."

"I can't do that Hermione…" I spun around to face him, my palm still flat against the cool granite. "Because no matter how I undress the words, or how I try to hide behind Astoria, I still love you, and there isn't a sodding thing I can do about it." I growled, and pushed him with my left hand. He pushed back, and that was what initially attracted me to him in the first place. I pushed him again, harder this time, with both hands. I felt the loss of my son's presence immediately. When he regained his balance, he pushed me up against the headstone, which to this day, still towers about five inches above my head.

"Let me go!" I demanded, glaring into his eyes.

"Not again, Hermione let me make it up to you." I looked at him incredulously, and scoffed.

"There's nothing to make up Draco, we _fucked_, I got pregnant, you left, I married, you married, Spencer died, I had another child, you had another child, and now here we are. Two broken marriages and a dead kid later. There is nothing to make up for."

"I want to make things right, I want-"

"I don't care about what you bloody want, Draco. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but in the end that's not enough is it? It's never enough." I saw the tear roll down his cheek at my harsh words, but I kept going. "You made me false promises, told me that you would never listen to your father if he told you to leave. But you did, and that is what broke my heart. Not the fact that you left, or how you left, it's the fucking fact that you left in the fashion you _swore _you wouldn't. You're weak Draco, and the sooner you realize it, the sooner you I can tell you I hate you and mean it….

"…but that's never going to happen is it? You've always been too arrogant to admit your faults. And you've always been too damn selfish to let me hate you..." he was shaking his head no, while I was nodding.

"Never" and his mouth covered mine.

-

"Ronald," Harry said while stepping away from the window, "why did you let her go?"

He shrugged, bringing the wine glass to his lips once again. "She was going to leave me anyway Harry, I was always his replacement. Always just his shadow."

"But…" he began again, ready to try another tactic.

"But nothing Harry, she **doesn't love me**. She never loved me. She never will love me. But she loves Malfoy. It fucking kills me Harry. But guess what, we're all going to live _happily ever after."_

Harry turned his head back towards the window, looking out at the vast back yard where The Burrow used to stand. He and Ron were sitting in a lavishly furnished three story home, full with a wrap around deck, indoor and outdoor pool, ten bedrooms, four baths, two dining rooms, a large kitchen, Quidditch Pitch, and a lovely rose garden off to the west for Ginny. Enough for the Weasley's or so he thought when he had it built. But the family just kept growing, and soon he would be ordering another floor to be added to the home.

"She'll come back mate….she'll come back."

Ron scoffed. "Bloody hell Harry, just because Ginny came back doesn't mean Hermione will. …whores the lot of them, falling in love with Slytherins." He shook his head before grabbing the bottle of wine and stalking out of the room.

"Sodding idiot" he muttered slamming the door to the sitting room shut.

-

I couldn't help but watch her as she slept so peacefully, her chestnut curls covered my chest, tickling me ever so softly. I smiled down at her, as she began to snore lightly. Brushing back her hair with my rough palm, I sighed and kissed the top of her head lightly.

"This is how things are supposed to be. How they were meant to be." Her body snuggled closer to mine, her lips lightly puckering next to my nipple. Contentment. I hadn't felt that since the day before I walked away from her. Life was hard once I walked away, writing to her wouldn't work, flooing her didn't work, and before I knew it a year had gone by.

She had married Weasley, and I was engaged to Astoria: who happened to be the Perfect Pureblooded Princess. I was in love with the fame, fortune, and momentary sanity that Astoria presented me with. But in the end her personality was not compatible to mine. I yearned for Hermione, read every newspaper article about her, even stood outside of her house in the pouring rain to see if I could catch a glimpse of her. It was Hermione that I loved, Hermione that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. It was just Hermione…and I wish I could make her see that.

She rolled away from me and I took this opportunity to slip out of bed and shower…

…she wasn't there when I came back.

-

**A/N: Yes, this chapter is shorter. Yes, this doesn't really advance in anyway. But you need it for a) to give you an update b) because it's the chapter before all the big drama really starts and c) because I said so. I just got back from vacation and the next chapter will be up within the next week or so. I just ask you one thing, and it's not to review. I ask you all to stay with me. Just stay with me throughout this one. **


	4. Escargot

A month later I found myself eating lunch in the local posh restaurant _The Broken Wand _with Ginny Potter.

I Hermione Jane Granger-Weasley fear nothing but failure. Let that be known from the beginning.

However, nervousness…that I have in abundance. Her icy blue eyes sought out the back of my head the _moment _I walked into the restaurant. And her stares were making me nervous to no end. I turned to Ginny, and smiled at her warmly.

"I don't blame you Hermione. I only came back to Harry because Daphne showed up with Blaise's child." She said, taking the napkin off of her plate and placing it in her lap. The menu was lined in red, the script written in a deep mahogany ink. I nodded my head, before peering at the offerings of the menu.

"I know, Ginny." I ran my tongue against my teeth and sighed in frustration. "If she doesn't stop staring at me, I swear I will shove her escargot down her Pureblooded throat." Ginny looked around wildly.

"Oh," she said in understanding.

I hate being stared at.

I hate being the center of attention.

I hate people scrutinizing my every move.

I hate the way my mouth feels after eating a bowl of Lucky Charms.

And I mostly hate Astoria Malfoy. Greengrass. Malfoy. Whatever her last name is.

"Hermione, did you know Draco was meeting his wife." I looked at her, before glancing over my shoulder. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was clearly not done. The manila folder he was holding held my attention ten fold. I watched his hand raise in the air and slam the folder down on the table before her. Straining my ears I heard his words…

"Sign them…now." And she did. She held the quill daintily, and after she dotted her i and crossed her t, she looked into my eyes and smirked.

I hate smirks.

I hate this fucking restaurant.

I hate divorces.

Draco reached into his pocket, threw something on the table, and walked out of the restaurant, but not before glancing in my direction. Hurt flashing greatly in his stormy eyes.

I almost went after him…almost. But alas, I've become a coward.

"I hope you're happy Mudblood." My shoulders tensed, as my head turned. I took in her perfectly manicured nails, he long black hair with no split ends, her neatly pressed robes, and that bloody smirk. I stood.

"What did you call me?" …maybe I'm not such a coward.

"There's no way to undress the words anymore, Mudblood." Tilting my head I began calculating the many ways I could mar her perfect face with just one punch.

…I came up with eight.

"Astoria, may I call you that?...no, oh well. Astoria, are you just jealous that the better witch won?" She scoffed. I'll never forget the next words out of her mouth.

"…He only went back to you because he knew about Spencer." Rage, I had never felt it so unadulterated before. Ginny, jumped up from the table, to stop my fist from hitting the bitch in the face. But her Quidditch reflexes weren't so honed anymore, and my right fist connect with her left eye. She stumbled backwards, into the nearest table.

I stepped above her. Kicking at her robes.

"Don't you _ever_ mention my son again." I reached over, grabbed the plate of escargot from the nearest table, and dropped three into her throat. "Swallow." and she complied.

I turned on my heel and stalked away, Ginny trailing far behind me with my purse.

* * *

When I opened the front door with the open bottle of gin in my hand, I did not expect to see Hermione standing there. Taking a swig I stepped back from the door and allowed her into the foyer.

"When was the last time you bathed, Ronald."

I glared at her.

"…Never mind." My eyes flew to the folder in her hand. I pointed at it with the butt of the bottle.

"What're those?" But I knew…I wasn't daft. It had taken her a month to get the papers drawn up. It had taken her exactly 13 minutes and 10 seconds since I received my copy for her to show up at the door. And it took me 1 hour 46 minutes and 55 seconds to locate a quill and a bottle of ink. Glaring at her, I scribbled my name on the bottom of the sheet of paper.

"What a waste of time." I muttered.

"Likewise." She said while smiling directly in my face. The bitch.

"You'll be back…when he leaves you again."

"You're probably right, Ronald." She whispered stepping closer to me. Her lips brushed mines briefly. She pulled back, and whispered against my cheek. "The pathetic part is that you'll let me back into your bed, and your pants. You'll let me fuck you stupid once again because you love me. You pathetic little man." My hand fisted her hair, snapping her head back. Her throat was exposed to me.

"Give me a reason to not snap your neck Mione." She laughed before placing her hand on my groin. I reacted immediately.

"Your cock still wants me…."

"…and men always think with their cocks." She reached her hand behind her head and pried my fingers from her hair before walking away from me.

I love the bird, but I hate the bitch.

-

-

A/N: Okay, so I know I didn't get to Draco's part. But this chapter was about 5k words, and I had to split it into three parts. This happens to be part one. Part two should be out within the week, it's being edited. And part three should be out in two weeks. So bear with me. And yes, I know Hermione is being a total bitch in this chapter. You'll soon find out why.

-Liz, this is where things get really good. All actions will be mirrored if you can understand that. Which, I'm positive that you can.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.


	5. Broke

She was the reason he hated himself. The reason he tossed and turned at night. The reason his son was dead. She was the reason he wanted to die; the reason he was now a single parent; the reason for his stomach to be constantly filled with Gin. And all of that; that was the reason he loved her. She was everything to him; had been since the beginning…continued to be when he walked away, stayed that way when he got married, she got a partner when his son was born, and remained everything to him when his wife left him. He was conflicted…at war with himself. And underneath it all; if he could change anything; the only thing he would change; is Spencer's passing away. It nagged at him; ate at his heart; gnawed at his mind at the unfairness of never being able to meet his first born son. If he could be so blunt and flawed with his words, he would say that he was royally pissed off at one Hermione Granger-Weasley. But the nagging reminded him that he loved the successful woman. Reminded himself again, that she took care of Spencer in every way possible. And forgot, or tried to at least, that one Ronald Weasley also helped to parent his son. That's what killed him the most.

He opened another bottle of Gin. Scorpious was out with the house elves. It killed him to be pushing his living son away, but he looked too much like Spencer. Too much like the boy who never got to call him daddy. Who died believing a lie. That's where this should take a turn for the worse…that's where his hand moves to his mouth with the bottle again. That's where he closes his eyes and gobbles half of the bottle down his throat. It takes one, Pansy Parkinson, to slap him back into reality. Or as close to it as he was going to get.

Her Chanel heels clicked on the marble of the entrance hall. He could hear them walking closer to him. Usually, he would have the decency to hide the bottles that he had drank in the last hour…all six of them, but this time he let them be. It was his house after all.

"Draco, what a mess." She sighed before waving her dainty little wand and cleaning up his study. He grunted, not letting go of the bottle that was now 75 percent gone. The sloshing in his belly felt wonderful, and the feeling in his head was perfect. He could almost forget now…almost. But her face still remained, engrained until his dying day, in his mind's eye.

"Pansy…why are you here?" he asked. Never quite looking her in her blue eyes. Never lifting his head higher than what was needed to drain the rest of the contents from his overpriced bottle of Gin.

"Haven't you seen the paper?" she asked nonchalantly. "You and Astoria…Granger and Weasley. Two of the biggest divorces to ever hit the press. There's quite the huddle of reporters on both of your front lawns. Also, there seems to be much speculation to a death certificate, a time before the war truly started, and a secret relationship between a Granger and a Malfoy. And I'm sure the late Lucius Malfoy is sure to be rolling in his grave at the moment. So I have one question and it is not, why her, it is why didn't you ever tell me?" She propped his chin up to look him in his cloudy eyes.

"Would you have believed me back then if I had told you that I had fallen for the very thing my family was against? If I had told you that I knew what it was like when you kissed someone and your entire world shifted into a new perspective? If I had told you that she was a beautiful person inside and out? If I had told you that I had fallen in love and asked Hermione Jane Granger to be my wife before my father did the thinkable? Would you have supported me if I married her? Would you still be my best friend today if I told you then what she told me a month ago?"

He could hear them now, out on his front lawn. The reporters screaming for him to come outside. Like bloody hell he would give them a press conference.

"No, Draco, I do not believe that I would have believed you. Nobody knew, nobody even suspected."

"Potter knew…Potter knew and that's why my father betrothed me to Greengrass. Because Potter didn't want to see Hermione with the likes of me. Thought he was protecting her, thought he was going to eventually save her life. Little did he know that because I had to leave her she nearly killed herself and nearly killed my baby. But what does that matter? He died in the end anyway."

And then he broke down. Never had she seen a grown man cry. Especially not Draco Malfoy.

* * *

"That will be £15.00." the muggle cashier said to me as I paid for my purchase and stuffed it into my purse before running out of the store. Breathing, that was something that I needed to do but couldn't seem to do at this very moment in time. The item in my purse would be the death of me. The undoing to all my sanity. I didn't know why I chose the Muggle method to my predicament, but I did and maybe that was what was killing me. The waiting. The need to know what my subconscious already knew, but I had to see, and the magical way was not good enough for me. I needed to see it in black and white…or well pink and white. Rounding the corner behind the store and the dumpster that smelled terribly of rubbish; which in turn made my stomach churn; I disapparated with the smell still lingering in my over sensitive nostrils. I barely made it to the toilet before I spewed the contents of my stomach. I sighed…this couldn't be happening to me.

Flushed. Brushed. Washed. Sat.

I pulled the box from my purse and stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Not again. Slowly my trembling fingers opened the package. My heart was racing. **There I was.** I pulled the smaller package out of the box and sat it on the sink. I stared at it for another 20 minutes or so. I stood up and gently removed my clothing preparing for a bath when I heard the pounding at my front door. I sat back down on the toilet; this time ripping open the package and using it's contents. I placed it back on the sink and after placing a robe about my person; went to go answer the door.

Her red hair was blowing wildly about her face and that was when I realized for the first time today that it was storming out.

"You didn't come to lunch." She accused.

"I was shopping." I countered, before stepping away from the door to make room for her to enter. "I had to buy a pregnancy test." She stopped dead in her tracks and stared at me. I nodded.

"Oh, Hermione…" I held my head high. There was no way I was going to be ashamed of this, especially when I didn't know the outcome. I walked into the kitchen and put on a pot of tea. All the while dreading the questions that were soon to come my way…but they never did. Ginny sat quietly at my table, just observing and then she spoke.

"Me too. But I already know." I turned sharply.

"Tell me it's Harry's." I begged. Even though I couldn't trust the git with a single piece of information that tore my life apart, I didn't want him to be hurt by the devastation that his wife was carrying another man's child. Ginny nodded and I relaxed visibly.

"Where's your test?" she asked innocently and I tossed my head in the general direction of the bathroom. Pulling the tea off of the stove and setting it in between us on a heat proof dolly, and then I sat down. "You're not curious?"

"It's a Muggle one, it will be there when we are done." She nodded her feigned understanding and told me all about Ron, whom I had no desire to hear about but I needed something to waste time. I barely heard her. All I kept thinking about was the test sitting on the rim of my sink upstairs and without another word I bounded for the stairs and barreled into my bathroom. I grabbed a hold of the test and stared at it for a good long while.

And then I broke down. Ginny had seen me cry a million times, but never quite like this.

* * *

**A/N: Hello old readers ( I hope ) and new readers alike! I am writing once again after yet another extremely long and unnecessary hiatus. Shame on me! But hopefully I am back with a vengeance. Drop a review or don't up to you! Thanks for reading. :)**


	6. Device

Shadow

Chapter 7

I knew not how long I sat on the tiled floor of my bathroom, sobbing so hard and so loud that my throat hurt, my belly hurt, my lungs hurt. I didn't even realize that Ginny had left my side some odd twenty minutes ago, only to return with the tea in hopes of shoving it down my throat to shut me up. Nothing worked, not even the hacking cough that was persistently gnawing it's way through the back of my throat. Everything was on fire, from my head to my toes, and likewise. I never ceased the sobbing, not even when the itch to vomit burned in my stomach and up my throat. I wretched, and sobbed, and dry heaved my way to the toilet on all fours, trying to rid myself. To purge, is one's greatest accomplishments my mother would say to me, but if she could see me now, purging, she would scold me to the heavens. The test was still clutched tightly in my hands, the skin around the plastic turning a pale while… I could not believe that I had seen the little mark with my own eyes. Thinking of the test had me spouting off apologies to everyone and anyone, but mostly to Spencer. My poor darling Spencer, and my Rose.

What seemed like hours later the crying stopped, the sobbing stopped, and I took the tea from Ginny. Clutching the freezing cup in my grip, the test pressed tightly to the china, I drank greedily. After draining the liquid, which stung my throat, I turned to Ginny and smiled weakly.

"I'm pregnant. Again." and to be quite honest with you, I had no fucking clue who the father was.

What.

A.

Mess.

There comes a time when you need to put your foot down, when you need to stand up for what you believe in, when you need to scream from the top of your lungs that enough is enough, and that is where we find Molly Weasley. She stood with her graying hair up in a loose bun, her flowered apron tied tightly about her middle, her hands on her hips gripping a wooden stirring spoon in the right, and glaring at her youngest son asleep on the sofa. There was yet another bottle of Fire Whiskey clutched to his chest and if you added the other six bottles that littered the floor you could just imagine how many he had drunk that day. Sucking her teeth she walked forward and looking at the tuft of red hair sticking out from the top of the blanket, she caught her breath as she inhaled the stench of him, and with one loud sigh, bopped him on the head with her spoon.

He jumped off of the couch, the bottle of whiskey falling to the floor and shattering, the red liquid staining the mauve plush carpet. She hissed, whipping out her wand and vanishing the mess, all of it. Standing with his shoulders slumped in front of her was her son, who until a few months ago was a man who had a shred of pride and dignity. Standing before her now was a boy who knew not how to deal with his problems so he turned to the bottle. She wished to help him, but did not know how to, so she used her words and harsh they were.

"She left you, Ronald. That's all there is too it, and in all actuality you left her, she just sent the divorce papers. If you wanted to keep her around you would have fought for her, we all know that you are a million times the man that Draco Malfoy is, you raised the bloody man's child for Merlin's sake. What more do you want everyone to do. Pick yourself up boy, go back to work, and for the love of Dumbledore get your own damn place to live! You're stinking up my couches." huffing she turned on her clog clad heel and left the room, conjuring a new spoon to replace the one she sullied on her son's head.

The day was raw, cold and blistering. The rain pelted the top of my head as I sat with my back to the headstone, worrying my bottom lip, as I penned a letter to Rose. If you glanced quickly enough you just might be able to read the words that I was writing. My hand was flying across the page quickly and it was easier now that I was using a ball point pen. I wrote to Rose, of all the things I was sorry for, of all the things that I wished I could do right, but was never able to. I just wrote.

I sat for a while after sending the letter off via patronus, pondering where the hell I went wrong. Wondering why in the world my life ended up such a mess. I wished and hoped that I could pinpoint where it went wrong. Looking back on my memories, on my short life, I was hoping a big red checkmark would form before my eyes, and signal that yes, the first time Draco slipped his prick into me was the exact moment I fucked my life up for good.

Sadly, that never happened and honestly I had nobody to blame but myself. Sighing, I leaned my head back against Spencer's headstone and let the tears fall from my eyes. I rubbed my stomach silently, hoping and praying that the test was wrong. I had already brought two children into this mess, and one of them didn't even make it five years. It's a miracle I didn't destroy Rose the way I destroyed Spencer. The tears were flowing down my face faster now. I couldn't even muster the strength to stand, and so I apparated and landed on his front porch. Curling into the fetal position I let the first loud sob rip through my body. Why, was I always a blubbering mess during this time in my life? Kicking his door to alert him to my presence, I continued to cry.

There she was. Sleeping on his couch, still crying. Something told him to leave her out on the porch, crying her eyes out in the rain. Maybe, just maybe the bitch would catch a cold and die. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so cheated, feel so violated. But, the sight of her brown hair matted to her scalp and the designer clothes ruined by the acid rain, and the wet trail the tears were leaving on her beautiful face tugged at his heart strings. Played a soft melody with his internal organs and soon he found himself hunching over and picking her up. She fit into his arms so snugly, so smoothly…like perfection. She had changed her clothes into a white button down of his own and dried her panties with her wand. She was gripping something to her stomach, and he would be a terrible liar if he didn't say that he was intrigued as to what it was. Part of him wanted to jar her awake, scream at her, and demand to see the funny looking contraption in her hand…then demand her out of his life forever. However, each time he looked at her, now snoring lighting on his sofa, he was reminded of their affair all those years ago…and again just a few weeks ago. Everything and yet nothing seemed to have changed between them, and in his mind, that was a base for a brand spanking new dysfunctional relationship.

She slept through the night and he just left her there, sprawled out on his couch, gripping her device to her stomach like her life depended on it. Early the next morning as he made his way around the corner, Draco could hear her soft sobbing once again…he approached her and swiped her hair off of her forehead prying the device out of her grip. The pink plus sign glared up at him like a neon sign…he shook her awake roughly.

"Explain this, Hermione." he bellowed, throwing the pregnancy test back at her, hitting her on the forehead with it. She shrugged her shoulders and looked at him through crust laden eyelids.

"I'm pregnant, Draco. Again."

**A/N: Yes, I know 2 years is WAY too long to take for an update, but would you believe me if I told you it took me one year to write one paragraph…my muse has been gone for a long time, and I'm not sure if it is back or not yet. Enjoy this, you may have to wait 2 years for the next chapter.**


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